


with hope and agenda

by makesmewannatsss



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, happy birthday louis, my tiny son is so old, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 07:59:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2843834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makesmewannatsss/pseuds/makesmewannatsss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Paris, February 2012.<br/>London, January 2013.<br/>Tokyo, November 2013.<br/>Rio de Janeiro, May 2014.</p>
<p>...and Holmes Chapel, December 2014.</p>
<p>Or the one where Louis spends a quiet December 24th in the Styles-Twist household and Harry has more than a few tricks up his sleeve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	with hope and agenda

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so first, HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOUIS!
> 
> I just felt like doing this and started it at like midnight last night, and I haven't really proofread it yet (I probably will later), so please excuse any typos. 
> 
> But I hope you enjoy. <3

He hears the commotion downstairs before he opens his eyes – pans clanging, raised, excited voices, everything that comes with being home. Harry shifts in his bed and curls into Louis, willing sleep to come back to him and let him rest in this warm and loving bed for just a little longer.

Louis’ arms curl around his shoulders and his left leg protectively flings over Harry’s lower body, all while the man is still asleep, and Harry just lets himself sink into the embrace, _falling falling falling_ until he’s very nearly out again himself. He doesn’t know what time it is and doesn’t much care – they’re both still adjusting to the change again, and it was a late night into Holmes Chapel yesterday.

And then his phone buzzes. Harry groans internally, nuzzling his face into Louis’ right hand and ignoring it until it vibrates for the second time. He gingerly slides his left hand out from the embrace and grabs the phone from the nightstand, bringing it to his face and blinking his eyes open.

_Gems <<>>_

_Wake up and come downstairs, kid, we need your help._

Harry rolls his eyes at the “kid” part before he realizes why she’s asking him to get up and he has to hold himself back, restrain himself from springing out of bed and bounding down the stairs immediately.

It’s December 24.

And no, unlike most people’s response to the date, he’s not filled with energy because it’s Christmas Eve – who the fuck needs Christmas Eve, anyway? – but because it’s _Louis’ birthday_. His heart sinks a little, that he didn’t remember what today was the very second he came to consciousness, but he figures the fact that it’s nine in the morning excuses him a bit. Regardless, he slips his phone back onto the nightstand and slowly extracts himself from Louis’ embrace.

Again, it’s only nine, so he certainly doesn’t want to wake Louis just yet, and it takes him nearly a full minute to get up on his feet and untangle the mess that his and Louis’ limbs made overnight. Gemma had walked in on them, one morning a year or so ago, and woke them up by loudly proclaiming how weird it was that they slept so close together and intertwined. Louis had shrugged it off and said that he sleeps better when he can feel Harry’s heartbeat. And that was just…enough to hear that Harry kind of never wants to spend another night alone from him again. This year, things had definitely been better in that regard. (For the record, the sentiment is the same coming from Harry.)

“Mmmmm,” slips from Louis’ lips as Harry draw the blankets back up around him.

Louis’ arms stretch out, grabbing for Harry, but he only tucks him in tighter and leans down to whispers, “Go back to bed, babe, don’t mind me.”

Louis doesn’t say anything in response, only bunching the blanket up, still asleep, and clutching it to his chest as if it were Harry himself. Before Louis can wake up and growl at him, Harry grabs his phone and snaps a picture of the moment, sending it off to Liam, Zayn, and Niall,  simply captioned “Birthday boy.” Louis will forgive him…eventually.

He throws a shirt and a pair of joggers on before tiptoeing out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

“Sleepy head,” Gemma taunts, looking up from setting the table when Harry jumps off the bottom step and into the kitchen and dining room area.

He just snorts and makes his way behind her, wrapping her in a hug. “Nice seeing you too, Sis.”

He can practically feel her roll her eyes as she sets down her last fork and turns around to hug him back. “How was your trip?”

“Good. Got into London in the morning, finished up some errands around town and at home, Lou and I got here around eleven. You were asleep. You’re old.”

“Hey, your man isn’t far behind me.” She swats him on the shoulder and steps into the kitchen, Harry following.

Anne is at the stove, fixing the eggs and sausage as well as having a bowl of pancake batter going on the side.

“Morning, Mum,” Harry says, ducking in to give her a peck on the cheek.

“Good morning, lovely.”

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he says, gesturing to the meal she has going.

She promptly whacks him on the head with her kitchen towel.

“Not for you. There is absolutely no way we’re kicking Louis’ birthday off with anything other than a great, large breakfast.” She hands him a bowl of fruit. “This, however, I put together with you in mind. Go set it on the table for me, by your chair.”

Harry’s already grinning. This is the first birthday and Christmas Eve Louis has spent in Holmes Chapel, and it was never even a question to Anne, Robin, and Gemma of how they’d treat him and what they’d do. He’s their son and brother. He gets a birthday breakfast, the works and all, just like Harry and Gemma always do. And it doesn’t seem that there was ever any question for Louis himself over whether he wanted to spend his birthday with the Styles and Twists. “I’d love to, Haz,” he’d said a few weeks ago when they started talking about what they wanted to do for the holidays. “We’ll see Mum and everyone in New York and go to Donny for Christmas Day. But I want to spend the 24th with yours.”

They’re not even married yet, Gemma complains. Apparently it’s “sickening in the sweetest way possible,” how they work things out.

Once the table is set with the food, Anne crosses into the hall and disappears for a few moments before she comes back in with a small pile of gifts.

She sets them on the corner of the table before asking Harry, “Could you get him up soon, do you think?”

“Yeah, ‘course. Be right back.”

He takes the stairs up two at a time now that he’s more awake, and barges into the bedroom with far less grace than he left it. He dives into his bed, wrapping Louis up in his arms and yelling, “Happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday!”

A groan sounds from under the comforter.

Undeterred, Harry tickles at Louis’ sides until the man is forced into turning around and opening his eyes. “What’re you bloody up to now?” There’s no real annoyance beyond his voice, though, and his eyes are shining with mirth.

Harry just grins and leans down to leave a big and sloppy kiss on his face. “’S your birthday, Lou.”

“Mmmm.” Louis hitches a leg up and drags Harry down further. “Explain to me,” he says, running a hand up Harry’s shirt, “Why I’m woken up with a tickle attack instead of something else?”

Harry lifts himself up, hands pressed to the mattress on either side of Louis’ head, and smirks. “Sorry. I’d planned on it, if that helps, but Gemma and Mum woke me up with a text asking for a hand. And speaking of that, you should come downstairs now.”

“But…” Louis keeps his leg on Harry’s hips, trying to thrust up and start something, his nails raking down Harry’s chest.

Harry just closes his eyes, takes a few deep breaths, and steels himself. Breakfast. Downstairs. His mum cooked it and it’s waiting all hot and ready.

“Come downstairs,” he gets out, crawling off of Louis slowly. “And after, we can take it into the shower.”

Louis sighs loudly, swinging his feet off the bed once Harry stands up. “Promise?” he pouts, and Harry swears that he’s never seen anything cuter or more irresistible in his life.

He just laughs in response, giving him a gentle shove from the back toward the door. “I’ll be right there, wait in the hall for me.”

“Are you getting my presents?” Louis asks loudly as he stands in the hallway, yanking a pair of sweats on.

“Why would I be doing that…” Harry mumbles as he scours his travel bag for the envelope he tucked away in there the other day. He finds it quickly enough, tucking it into the pocket of his joggers.

They make their way down the stairs and find Gemma, Anne, and Robin at the dining table, waiting.

“Happy birthday, love!” Anne says immediately, springing up to pull Louis into a tight embrace.

“What is this?” he asks, hugging Robin as well and looking on at the table, gifts, and bunch of balloons that were added when Harry was gone fondly. Harry giggles lightly and takes one of the two empty seats left.

“What does it look like?” Gemma asks as she pulls Louis into a hug and gives his head an affectionate rub. “Happy birthday, old man. You’re catching up.”

He grins and takes the seat beside Harry. “Thank you, really. This is – it’s really great. Thank you.”

Harry softly presses a kiss to his temple despite his rising blush.

 “Nothing but the best for you, Louis,” Anne says warmly, passing him the plate of eggs. “And for crying out loud, Gemma, none of you can be classified as ‘old.’ Just wait till you’re up here.” She gestures between herself and Robin.

They eat, and Harry and Louis catch their family up with the New York trip. Gemma says that Harry is apparently in a relationship with Kristen Wiig now, and Louis with Courtney Love, so she’s quite curious about how that came about and why the pair of “exes” sitting before her are on such amicable terms.

“They linked me to Courtney Love?” Louis asks incredulously, popping half of a pancake into his mouth.

“I mean, it’s a joke,” Gemma snorts. “But I think that it’s the funniest thing I’ve ever read about any of you.”

By the time they start to clear the table, Louis is bouncing in his seat a bit, and Harry can’t help but laugh at him. He would never admit it, but he so obviously wants to get to the presents, wrapped and waiting, right next to him. It’s times like these when Louis looks five years old, and Harry loves him all the more for it.

“Should I put these under the tree?” Harry asks his mother, moving toward the pile as if to pick them up.

“Hey!” Louis shoots his hand out to shop him and Harry looks down at him with a glint in his eyes.

“Oh, don’t tease him,” Anne chides, taking a seat again and motioning for Louis to take the gifts.

Harry rolls his eyes and sits down as well. “That’s the fun part, though.”

Gemma snorts and winks at them, and if their parents weren’t sitting at the table with them Harry would flip her off within the second. Louis, for his part, is too busy reading his card from Anne and Robin.

From them, he gets set of teacups that match their new kitchen color scheme as well as something that Anne never fails to get any of them for their birthdays –

“Oh my God,” Louis exclaims, “This one has a face that I recognize on it!” He lifts a T-shirt out of the box with his face emblazoned across it, only instead of the usual look that seems right out of the X Factor, Harry recognizes it as from one of their shoots about a year ago.

“Think your hair was almost as long as Harry’s there,” Robin comments, and yes, that was from the time when Louis was growing out his as well.

“You should do that again,” Harry suggests, playing with the back of Louis’ head absentmindedly. “I liked it long.”

Louis crinkles his face up. “Think that look suits you better, dear.”

He opens Gemma’s gift next, a mug that reads – oh, God, Harry cracks up immediately – “Harry Styles Is Cute but His Boyfriend Is Cuter.”

Louis starts _howling_ with laughter. “Where did you find this?”

Gemma just leans back in her chair and grins, self-satisfied. “Etsy’s a beautiful place, y’know.”

“I’m going to use this for everything,” he announces, taking his half-full glass of orange juice and pouring it into the mug.

“Hey, I want one of those,” Harry protests, grabbing the mug and taking a swig from it.

“Why? It calls you cute, self-absorbed much?” Gemma laughs. “I looked for one with the names flipped for you but they didn’t have it and I felt a bit weird asking them to make one in case they could figure out who I was or summat.”

Wouldn’t that be something.

Harry just shakes his head, though, and explains as he passes the mug to a pouting Louis. “But he is cuter, though, so I’d only be drinking the truth.”

Anne “awwws” silently as Gemma gags.

Louis just takes the mug back in hand and raises his eyebrows as he takes a sip. “Thank you all,” he says as he sets it down. “Best birthday morning ever, by far.”

Anne leans across the corner of the table and pulls Louis into a hug, kissing his temple. “I love you so much, honey. You deserve the best of days.”

“Love you too,” Louis murmurs as he kisses her back. He turns back to Harry with a shit-eating grin. “Hi Hazza,” he says innocently.

Harry nods, trying not to break. “Hi Lou.”

Louis just stares at him expectantly, his eyes glittering.

Harry shakes his head, unable to hold himself back any longer. He cracks up, pulling the envelope out of his pocket and hands it to Louis. “Happy birthday, Boobear.”

Louis kisses him on the nose as he takes the envelope, eyes crinkling in his smile.

“You didn’t get him money, did you?” Gemma asks loudly. “Pretty pointless if you ask me.”

Harry shoots her a glare while Louis opens the envelope.

“It’s an excursion in Jamaica!” Louis exclaims, unfolding the pamphlet and looking through it.

“In a different part of the island than we normally go,” Harry points out, turning it to the map and showing him. “You’d mentioned wanting to do a zipline sometime, and that’s included in this, so I figured that since we’ll be there for New Years’ we could do it this time.”

Louis pulls him in for a quick kiss on the mouth, smiling against his lips. “This is fantastic. I’m so excited, Haz, thank you so much.”

“’M glad you like it,” Harry responds, locking their ankles under the table.

The rest of the morning passes wonderfully, with Louis FaceTiming his family and both he and Harry having a very in-depth conversation about birthdays and Christmas presents with Doris and Ernest. The babies grasp at the screen, calling out “Ooo!” (their name for Louis) and “Azzy!” (their name for Harry) every time either of them pops in and out of the screen, playing peek-a-boo.

“We gotta go now,” Louis finally says, waving bye to the camera. “We’ll see you tomorrow, honeys!”

“Eeeeeh!” Doris squeals, whacking her twin brother on the side of his head and waving at the camera.

“See you tomorrow!” Harry calls, popping his head over Louis’ shoulder and pulling a funny face at the babies.

Jay comes back into the picture for a moment to say goodbye and soon Louis is shutting the iPad off, setting it to the side.

“I love them so much,” Harry announces, flopping onto the bed in a starfish position, forcing Louis to slide out from under his limbs and lie half on top of him. “They’re the best babies ever.”

Louis giggles, tucking his face into Harry’s neck. “I think you’ll go back on that in a few years, love.”

A thrill runs up Harry’s spine at the mention of future children. It always does – the idea of starting a family with Louis never gets old. If they’re this besotted with his siblings he can’t even imagine how they’ll be with a bundle or two (or five or six or seven…) that they can call their own.

“Mmm,” Harry hums lowly, running a hand up and down Louis’ spine. “You’ll have to make an honest man out of me first. But be warned that the second you do that I’ll be shoving baby-making papers in your face.”

Louis sits up with a start. “I’ve asked you, what,” – he starts counting off on his fingers – “one, two, three, four times, Harold. ‘S all but official.”

Harry laughs and looks up at his fiancé through hooded eyelids. “Remind me again.”

Louis taps one of the many rings Harry wears. “You’re telling me you’ve forgotten our engagements?”

Harry gasps, mocking an affronted look. “How very dare you suggest that, Louis Tomlinson. All I was implying was that I wanted to hear them from your mouth again.”

Louis shakes his head and leans down, kissing him. “Paris, February 2012,” he says against Harry’s lips. “One.”

He kisses him again. “London, January 2013. Two.”

A third time. “Tokyo, November 2013. Three.”

Harry holds him down so he can’t come back up for air this time, continuing to work their lips together as Louis manages to squeak out, “Rio de Janeiro, May 2014. Four.”

“That was my favorite,” Harry whispers. “Top of Christ the Redeemer.”

“All of them are my favorite,” Louis murmurs, shifting so he’s more fully on top of Harry, and, yes, Harry can feel that he’s hard above him. “Because each time my deepest love said that he would spend the rest of my life with me.”

Harry groans against the bed, getting worked up by Louis’ words. “I love you,” he says, gripping Louis closer. “I can’t wait to marry you. I can’t wait to have your babies.”

Louis giggles and moves again, and all of a sudden he’s rolling over and scooting off of the bed, holding out a hand to Harry. “I love you more. And if I remember correctly, when I was half asleep and woken up by an overexcited puppy careening into my bed, you promised me another present. So I’m off to the shower now, if you’d like to join…”

Harry has never sprung out of bed faster.

They come downstairs later to their family curled up on the couch, an old Christmas movie playing on the television. “Hey,” Harry says, giving Gemma’s ponytail a tug and jumping over the couch to sit next to her, patting the spot next to him for Louis to take a seat.

He sinks in beside him, curling into his arm. “What’re we watching?” Louis asks.

“It just ended,” Gemma answers, indicating the TV. “Mum, how long until people start arriving?”

“We have a few hours,” Anne says. “You can put another one in.”

“You pick,” Gemma directs toward Louis.

“Christmas movies,” he starts loudly. “Movies on Christmas. God, I wonder which movie we should put on.”

“Louuuu,” Harry whines, poking him in the side. “Please?”

Louis laughs and grabs the remote from the coffee table. “Let’s see what’s on.”

“Louis!” Harry pleads again.

“Let him pick!” Anne chides.

“I’m playing, I’m playing,” Louis says, immediately going to select _Love Actually_ and hitting play. “It wouldn’t be Christmas without it.”

Harry grins and kisses Louis right on the mouth.

“Ugh,” Gemma groans. “I’m literally right next to you. This is disgusting.”

“Don’t be jealous,” Harry scolds, pulling Louis closer into his arms and settling in to watch the film.

The movie starts, and they all fall into it silently, laughing when the moments strike.

And, well – Harry is just so very content right now, surrounded by four of the people he loves most in this world. He sits on edge as the film approaches his favorite part – with the declaration of love on the cards near the end – and gets an idea. On its own, it’s a crazy idea, but considering the context of _them_ – well, it’s really just a bit perfect.

He wonders why he hasn’t done it before, but supposes it’s really all just been due to the circumstances of the times and the moments they were caught up in. He holds back a smirk, a laugh, a grin as he slides his phone out of his jeans’ pocket and opens up the Notes app, typing up the message quickly.

“Louis,” he whispers, poking him in the knee.

“Shh, Haz, ‘m watching this.” (Louis always insists that no one loves _Love Actually_ as much as Harry does, but Harry knows that that’s a lie. Louis has as much of a soft spot for it as he does.)

“Look at this.”

“What is it?”

“Look!”

“Shhh!” Gemma hisses, giving him a little shove.

“Don’t interrupt me!” Harry snaps back. He’s not nervous, per se, because like Louis had said earlier, they’re all but set in stone now, but it’s his first time, and he wants it to be special. And memorable. And everything, because that’s what Louis deserves and more.

“Okay, what do you want to show me?” Louis asks, finally turning his head away from the television and to Harry.

He just presses a finger to his lips, shushing him, and holds his phone up. **_Say it’s Twitter_.**

Louis squints and looks at Harry suspiciously, but announces, “It’s Twitter” loudly enough for the room to hear.

“When isn’t it?” Gemma responds grumpily, turning the volume on the TV up.

Harry pulls his phone back and erases the first message, typing another one and putting it in Louis’ face again. **_With any luck, by next year_.**

“What’re you doing?” Louis whispers, picking up on the movie reference.

Harry just shushes him and takes the phone back again, repeating the action. **_I’ll be celebrating with this guy._** He includes a picture of Louis this time, pasting a selfie from his camera roll.

A very loud “Awwww!” escapes Louis’ mouth and he nudges Harry to go on.

So he does _. **But for now let me say.**_

Another nudge.

**_WITH hope and agenda._ **

Louis snorts.

**_Just because it’s Christmas –_ **

“Mmhmm?”

**_(And at Christmas you tell the truth)_ **

“Naturally,” he whispers.

**_To me, you are perfect._ **

“You too.”

And here he deviates from the script. **_Louis, will you marry me?_** He adds a diamond ring emoji for good measure.

“Oh my God!” Louis shrieks, hands flying to his mouth.

Harry giggles. “That a yes?”

He leans forward and pulls Harry in for a lip-bruising kiss.

“Of course. I’d never dream of saying anything else. But what brought this on?” he whispers into Harry’s ear, halfway onto his lap (and Gemma is rolling her eyes, still oblivious to what their exchange was actually about, and halfway off the sofa).

Harry shrugs. “I wanted to. I just realized that I’d never done it before. ‘S always you. So. Happy birthday, _fiancé_.”

“You’re a sap. I love you so much.”

“What the hell are you two on about now?” Gemma finally calls out loud enough so their parents can hear.

“Harry asked me to marry him!” Louis shouts happily. “I said yes!”

“What?” Anne shrieks, standing up. “When? How did I miss this?”

Harry waves his phone at her. “We’re in the age of technology, Mum, don’t feel bad.”

Gemma rolls her eyes, but Harry knows that she’s doing so fondly. “You idiots have had each other on lockdown for almost three years.”

“Yes, but now it’s promised five times over,” Louis points out, taking his own phone to text his mother.

“I think this calls for some champagne,” Robin says, getting up to break out one of the bottles a few hours early.

“Congratulations,” Anne says, and Harry can tell that she’s crying.

“Hey,” he says, leaning down to whisper in Gemma’s ear while Louis is preoccupied. “I need a favor.”

She laughs, giving his arm a squeeze. “Anything for you.”

“Come to the shops with me this afternoon, we have to find one that’s open.”

“Why?”

He looks at his own rings pointedly and then back up to his sister. “I need to get one. It’s be a Christmas gift,” he hisses.

“Oh my God,” she says, shaking her head fondly. “Of course. Let me know when.”

Louis tugs on Harry’s left arm, bringing him back in.

“Yeah?”

“You should amend one of those text thingies.”

Harry furrows his brows, confused. “To what? Why?”

Louis laughs. “Gosh, no, you didn’t do anything wrong. But that second one…I think next year, you should be _married_ to ‘this guy.’”

Harry grins. “You wanna?”

“I wanna. Let’s start planning now. After the tour, y’know?”

Harry smiles so wide he thinks that it might spring off of his face.

“That sounds perfect.”

“You’re perfect.”

“Oh my God!” Gemma shouts again, turning around to pass them flutes of champagne.

“No, you,” Harry insists. “Now kiss me, you fool.”

And Louis is more than happy to comply.

_Holmes Chapel, December 2014. Five._


End file.
